


And the sign said: "The Doctor is Out"

by liathach (tselina)



Series: Non-Sequence Stories [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:46:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tselina/pseuds/liathach
Summary: Jesse is a hero at heart, and he proves it with everything thing he does, from stopping cattle rustlers on the range to protecting foreign settlers from ne'er do wells. Angie's proud to be by his side, stitching his body up and comforting him in equal measure.Even if he does bleed all over her fancy carpet.(McMercy Valentine's Exchange -- Western AU)





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairings** : McCree/Mercy  
>  **Warnings** : Semi-Explicit Sex, Schmoop
> 
> A gift for the McMercy Valentine exchange for Cole on the McMercy Discord. Happy Valentine's Day! *finger guns*

The sheriff's young deputy is back in her parlor again. It's not much of a surprise to Angie -- he's a lawman, and being roughed up is part of the job -- but he always looks just a little apologetic about it. Right now, his hat is to his chest, his large brown eyes doleful and solemn, and his recently purchased button-up is in tatters over his right arm.

"Jesse McCree," Angie says, fixing on her surgeon's apron and plucking up her bag, all business, "does the Sheriff know you're here, or do I need to send my runner?"

"He don't, but you don't gotta send Miss Lena for nothin'," Jesse says. "Sorry for bleedin' all over your nice rug out there, Doc Ziegler. But I'm pretty sure I need some sutures."

It's a good thing he's pretty. Angie closes her eyes briefly, inhaling and trying not to imagine the red blotches on the yellow-and-green surface. She'll have to take it to the apothecary to see if Mei Ling has some cleaner that can help it. There is the task at hand, though. Jesse needs help, and it's not his fault he's always getting into scraps. Well, maybe it is, a little, but he does good work keeping the peace in their town.

"What if he needs you?" Angie says, lifting his arms to see just where the blood is coming from, working on his button-up shirt to get a better look.

The poor fellow winces as Angie pokes around. "I know he don't, he's busy meetin' with the Marshall." 

"Marshall Morrison's arrival to Overwatch has been on the books for over a week," Angie says sourly. "You could have told him you were doing some of your _extra_ work, that way I would've been ready."

"Ah, Angie," Jesse says, nearly going into a full-on sulk. Though the scrappy deputy is her age, a proper twenty-three, there's a boyishness to him when he's sullen that is charming enough to be disarming. Despite knowing this, she softens up.

"It is just that -- if Reyes knows what you're up to, he can call on me when you go missing," she says, wiping down the ugly gash on his shoulder, petting his chest when he stiffens with the pain.

"Yes'm," he says. 

She plucks splinters from the wound. "What happened?" 

Jesse bites his lower lip, and not out of pain this time. He's trying to find the words for his latest adventure.

"Some folks were botherin' Miss Zhou's place," he says. "Gettin' real nasty with her, s'all."

"Oh, Jesse," Angie says. She'd say more, but she's prepared the iodine. "I -- brace yourself."

Jesse hisses as she pats his wound with the brown-gold stuff, screwing his eyes shut. " _Hoowee._ 'Least it ain't clear liquor."

"Yes, it could be worse," she says. "At least you don't need stitches."

"Sure enough?" Jesse turns over his shoulder. "Well, a spot of good news."

Angie begins to bind the gauze to his shoulder, Jesse's heavy sigh their only conversation as she does. She stands when she's done, mixing hot water from her kettle in her washbasin and cleans her hands.

"Mei Ling can handle herself," she says, her back to Jesse, "you know that, right?"

"She's a woman alone, Angie, I can't but help it. Ain't right for them folks to say such things," Jesse says. "Just 'cause she ain't from around here." His nose wrinkles. "Not like their parents grew up here, neither."

There's a bitterness there that's long-standing: _Jesse's_ folks have been around the mesa for generations, as had Reyes's. That didn't stop the yokels in town whispering about them, though Angie and her charge Lena make sure they knew not to talk like that around them, if they want proper treatment at Angie's parlor. Sheriff Reyes takes it in stride, but it hurts Jesse still. She knows she has to lighten his mood to keep him going.

"Come on," Angie says. "You go clean off in the back room, all right? I think one of your shirts is hanging up, it should be dry."

Jesse cracks a small grin. "Sounds like you done being my doc, Doc."

"That I am, Deputy McCree." She smiles back at him. "Well, you have your orders, don't you? Go freshen up."

When Jesse walks through the front doors of the clinic, he's a patient, and both of them have their place. But behind closed doors, Jesse's her suitor.. Angie knows right now he needs his best girl's comfort, not a doctor's prodding touch. Angie turns the sign on the door over: "The Doctor is Out", drops her smock in the laundry, and heads towards the clinic's kitchen.

Jesse's washing his face, the water clinging to his bangs. He smiles up at her when she enters, red-brown hair plastered to his stubbly cheeks. He's still barechested, which is distracting, haphazard rivulets of water caressing the curves of his defined muscles.

"Aren't you a sight." Angie clears her throat, a little flustered; he just keeps grinning. "Are you planning on being one of the saloon's dancing girls next?"

"Figure I'd let you help me into my shirt if I waited long enough," he says, patting his face dry with a terry cloth. 

"You'd _let_ me? Hhm, I am not your wife yet," she says, nose to the air briefly. He laughs and wraps his hands around her waist, tugging her close. She puts her arms around his neck, mindful of his shoulder, and pushes up on her toes to kiss him. It slow and belly-warming, and Angie isn't too proud to make little noises of appreciation. He lifts her easily with his uninjured arm and slides her on the the kitchen table, rucking up the table cloth.

"Mind your arm," she growls, then hiccups with surprise as his fingers ruck up her skirt, next. " _Jesse!_ "

"You're workin' so hard today," he breathes against her cheek. "And takin' good care of your man."

"I was very mean to you," Angie says, squirming a little as he tugs the laces on her small clothes to discard them on the floor. "Oh, we can't do this here -- Lena could come in any --"

"Any moment, oh, I know," Jesse murmurs into the ticklish spot under her ear. "S'why I locked the back door, too."

She slaps his good shoulder, just enough sharpness to show faux displeasure. "So I can expect this as my payment for services rendered --?"

"Yes'm," he says, sliding his buckle out of his trousers with an expert whip. "Fair trade, n'all that."

"Mmhmm, well, I'll be the judge of that." Angie reaches between them grasp his cock, warming it with her hands. He grunts with brief, rare animal need, pulling her closer towards him, slides his length against her sex and belly. " _Jesse_ \--"

"You safe to do this?" he says, hesitating. "Wedding ain't for a year --"

"Am I a doctor, or aren't I?" she says, prim for a woman with a man's hand rubbing the pearl of her sex to encourage her. Jesse pinches her nub briefly at her cheekiness, and then, with eager hands and his sure hips, he's inside her.

The table rocks underneath them, and he keeps his thumb pressing down at the apex of her sex, adding to the pressure of his cock inside her, making sure he hits that other delicious spot inside her. Angie muffles her moans against the gauze on his right shoulder, never able to properly be quiet when they're making love, especially when it's rough and rushed like it is now. Her legs shudder with more than one climax before Jesse finally lets himself loose, a rare moment of giving in to need, and she finishes with him as he comes inside her, hot and satisfying.

Angie nuzzles his cheek, taking in the smell of the dusty frontier, saddle leather and medicinal aftershave, and the sweat of their sex. She sighs, pleased. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to be your dutiful woman and get you cleaned up properly, hmm?”

Jesse pauses and pulls away, eyes wide with worry. "Angie -- no. I ain't gonna expect my wife to serve me," he says. “Not with anything. You know that, right?"

"Oh, Jesse," Angie says, stroking his face. "I know _you_ , so of course I know that's not how you are."

Embarrassed, he ducks his head near her cheek. "Well, iff'n that's enough," he murmurs. "I guess I'll gotta listen to you for now."

She wipes them both down, flicking water in his face after she’s cleaned her hands. He shyly wads up the tablecloth and retreats to find a new one. She gets started cleaning the table, just in case, when from a distance, she hears Lena greet him, his muffled sound of surprise, then their laughter, and Angie can't help but smile. 

Ever since Jesse'd come first to her clinic, she'd known he was special. Not just because he's beautiful, but because his spirit makes him moreso. Jesse is a hero at heart, and he proves it with everything thing he does, from stopping cattle rustlers on the range to protecting foreign settlers from ne'er do wells. Angie's proud to be by his side, stitching his body up and comforting him in equal measure.

Even if he does bleed all over her fancy carpet. 


End file.
